


That's My Girl (Part 4)

by wordstothewisereaders



Series: That's My Girl [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crowley makes his appearance, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, SPN - Freeform, and stuff goes down, dadstiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 05:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordstothewisereaders/pseuds/wordstothewisereaders
Summary: Speaking in riddles might as well have been Crowley’s specialty. Now, as he sits in the bunker with a room full lof pissed Winchesters, he has to clarify what exactly he means by his ‘the end is nye’ speech. Especially since Jo’s well-being is on the line.





	That's My Girl (Part 4)

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked gruffly, not lowering the gun he still had raised.

"What does it look like? I'm here to save your asses. Again. Just another day in paradise." Crowley responded, looking amused at the hunter. "You can put that down, Squirrel. You and I both know it won't do you any good."

"Devil's trap bullets." Dean said, popping open the chamber and holding up one of the engraved projectiles. "I'm not doing anything until you start speakin' English."

"Yes, yes fine." Crowley rolled his eyes, holding up his hands defensively. "You've been struggling with some problems lately - very obvious problems, might I add - and I came because I'm tired of watching you two blubber about like children. Simple as that. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to speed along the business process. Hell never stops moving, you know."

Dean opened his mouth to answer with a smartass comment but was stopped by his daughter - who had been pulled into Cas' lap as soon as Crowley showed up - tugging on his sleeve, "Who's that, Daddy?"

Before Dean or Cas could answer, Crowley chimed in with a smile, "I'm Crowley, darling, but you can call me Uncle Crowley, if you like. My favorite little people usually do."

"Hey! Nope, you don't talk to her! You talk to me! What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked defensively, resting a protective hand over Jo's chest.

"It's very obvious, Dean. The little one has been struggling lately, correct? Nightmares? Headaches? So bad that she had to come home from school?" Crowley asked.

"How do you know that?" Cas asked, squinting his eyes.

"I have eyes everywhere, Cassie. I don't know why you're pissed off. Why would I be here for any other reason except to give you the help that you do obviously are grasping for?" Crowley smirked.

"I can think of a few." Dean scoffed.

"Stop being so daft, Dean. You and I both know that I wouldn't harm any hair on your little ignorant head. Now let's talk, shall we?" Crowley asked, snapping his fingers and disappearing.

"Dammit!" Dean exclaimed, stuffing his gun in his waistband and jumping up.

"Where are you going?" Cas asked, face red in fury.

"Kitchen. I know he's there. C'mon." Dean motioned.

The older Winchester banged on Sam's door as he passed, shouting, "Kitchen, Sam, now! I need a lawyer!"

The Winchesters, Cas and Crowley gathered around the War Room's table, each holding a steaming cup of coffee. Eileen offered to stay with Jo as she slept to make sure that Crowley didn't send anything after her. They may have been in standings with the king that weren't terrible, but it still didn't mean they trusted him completely.

"What the hell is up with you?" Dean barked at Crowley, tensing his shoulders in a way that Cas knew would leave them in knots for a week.

"So very nice to be in your presence again, Squirrel. To skip the formalities, I've found a possible solution to your problem." Crowley responded.

"That's the other thing. How the hell do you know about our 'problem?' You didn't exactly clear that up during our little chat. Give me one reason why I shouldn't knife you right now?" Dean asked, leaning over the table from his seat. Cas wrapped his fingers gently in his shirt, pulling him back down. If they were going to get defensive, Cas wanted answers beforehand.

"As I told you, eyes everywhere. And, of course, word's spreading that the secret life of Winchester isn't as perfect as it once was. It's been floating around that you've been trying to contact Chuck again. What else could that be for besides trouble in paradise? Lucky for you, I may be of assistance." Crowley said, clasping his hands and leaning up.

"We are not going to be in debt to you again, Crowley. It's never been in our favor before when we owed you." Cas said calmly, though he could have killed the demon then and there for talking about his daughter.

"Who said you had to repay me?" the king asked.

"You, of all demons, are not going to pop in here with a bargain that doesn't have a price. Good try, though." Sam laughed dryly.

"Sam, if you knew what I did about this whole catastrophe, you wouldn't be asking for a price either. The end result would be payment enough. But that's fine then if you're not going to listen. I'll just be on my way, and you three morons can sit here and watch the world burn to nothing by yourselves." Crowley replied, shrugging carelessly. He was about to raise his fingers to snap back to Hell when Dean stopped him.

"The hell does that mean?" Dean snarled, "You wait just a damn minute and sit down!"

"Willing to listen now, are we?" Crowley asked snarkily.

"Enough of the foreplay. There's a set of devil's trap handcuffs in the dungeon with your name on them just waiting to be back on your hands. Start talking." Dean barked.

"Yes, yes, well you see it's gotten around that something big is brewing, upstairs and down. Personally, my demons have found hardly anything in Hell that needs to be done. Apparently it's very hush-hush, though it's causing quite the stir. It's as if the other demons are rallying, but only when they won't get caught, and only with those who won't say anything. We believe they're forming an army, but not against me and mine. A mole upstairs reported the very same thing, but even moreso under wraps. Very mysterious, if you ask me." Crowley said, shrugging.

"You do realize you didn't tell us a damned thing just now? Summarize, Crowley." Sam huffed, voice full of sass. "What does Jo have to do with it?"

"Patience, Moose. If it weren't important, why would I be wasting my breath?" Crowley replied.

Dean rolled his eyes, dramatically leaning onto Cas' shoulder. "Get on with it." he groaned.

"You said you're daughter has been having nightmares lately. Seeing things happen before they actually do? Something big is happening, boys. And who do we know that has had the very same experience - in fact, there are two - in the last ten years? I believe there was a book series based on the after-effects of an almost identical situation." Crowley said.

"No! We have talked about this, Crowley. Whatever it is, it can't possibly be that! She's not seeing anything but us get hurt. It can't be like that if there's no bigger picture!" Cas exclaimed, throwing his fist on the table.

"What? Prophecy? Castiel, look at this. The headaches? The visions? Play by play analysis of the exact things happening to you when she's not around, days before? It's not that far-fetched!" Crowley argued.

Cas sprung up to retaliate when Sam chimed in, "What do you think's causing another prophet to come up, if that's what you're hellbent on thinking it is? Don't catastrophic events have to signal coming of age?"

"Thank you, Moose, for using a small bit of logic, unlike others." Crowley retorted, "The Cage has been unusually quiet lately. Ever since I've taken over Lucifer, there hasn't been a word. It makes sense, doesn't it? Something so dangerously powerful it could cause for demons and angels to stir? What more, a prophet?"

"So you're saying Michael might have escaped? The archangel Michael?" Dean asked warily.

"It is possible. With the Cage in such disarray the past years, he could have slipped by. Who was the last person to lock him up? You three. I would bet the throne that he pays a visit. And let me tell you, years of building rage is enough to drive him into a level of pissed off that we have yet to see." Crowley replied, looking almost fearful.

"What're we supposed to do then? It's not like we have a detector for archangels. Fan-friggin'-tastic, Crowley. Way to do your one damned job!" Dean complained, sinking his face into his hands and trying not to punch something. Behind his anger, he felt his heart sinking deeper than it ever had.

"I wouldn't have come here if I didn't want to help. I may have come up with a solution - albeit temporarily - until you can pull your act together." Crowley said.

"Well let's hear it. Can't be any damned worse than what you just said." Dean sighed.

Before Crowley could answer, Eileen walked in, drawing their attention to her.

"Hey, is something wrong?" Sam signed concernedly.

"It's Jo. She had another vision. You may want to hear this."


End file.
